


We Couldn't Get Closer than This

by Taste_is_Sweet



Series: Ussuri [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Magic, And His Familiar, Bingo, Community: hc_bingo, Community: picfor1000, M/M, Natasha Romanov is a Witch, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Soul Bond, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Who is Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 12:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3120083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_is_Sweet/pseuds/Taste_is_Sweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I had a familiar, once." Steve wants to touch the cat so badly his fingers hurt with it. He doesn't, too afraid he'll feel nothing. He's felt nothing where half his soul used to be for a very long time.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Couldn't Get Closer than This

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, huge thanks for the bodacious [Brumeier](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier) for the beta. (Though not for suggesting I call this 'The Fluffy Bucky Fic' or 'The End of the Feline'. But you know that I'd do anything for you, Lovekitty.)
> 
> (The title comes from the song [Lovecats](http://youtu.be/0WqKbDC8gR4) by The Cure. Both the lyric and the song seemed particularly appropriate.)
> 
> This fic was inspired by [this beautiful photo](http://goo.gl/1MpBvk) prompt given to my by the [A Picture is Worth 1000 Words](http://picfor1000.livejournal.com/) Live Journal Community.
> 
> Finally, this fic also fills the **Forced Soulbonding** square of my [Hurt/Comfort Bingo](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/) [card.](http://taste-is-sweet.livejournal.com/85941.html)

"I didn't know Natasha had a familiar." Steve nods at the black cat in the far left corner of the Tower's enormous gymnasium, as focused on Natasha's dancing as Clint and Steve are. The cat is big: tar-black and incongruously fluffy with a tail like a flicking bottlebrush. Steve thinks the cat's a 'he', but he doesn't really want to know. Just like he's been careful not to look at the cat's face, in case it has storm-blue eyes.

Clint smirks. "That's not her familiar," he says.

* * *

Thing is, Steve was born a witch. But he only ever performed one spell in his entire life.

He was seven, and it was winter. The alley's white blanket of snow was marred by the tiny black body twitching in a pool of red, and the red-stained footprints of the three boys Steve took on for the sake of a dying animal.

He doesn't really remember what happened, but he can still recall the startling pain and the blood on his face steaming in the cold, and the pure, crystalline terror when the asthma froze his lungs. But he doesn't know what he _did_ , other than the wordless, desperate wish for help.

All he knows is that an instant later the world whited out in a flood of agony worse than anything the boys had done; worse than anything Steve had ever experienced, like he was tearing in half. And suddenly another boy leaped at the three bullies, and bit and punched and kicked and raked them with his nails until they fled.

And then Steve was looking up at storm-blue eyes under a mess of dark brown hair; blood on the boy's curled fists and at the corners of his mouth.

"Who are you?" Steve gasped, struggling to speak through lungs laboring with cold and fear.

"I don't know," the boy said, holding out his hand. "You made me." He grinned. His teeth were red too, and very sharp.

* * *

"Where did the cat come from? Where did you get him?" Steve asks Natasha. He's on her floor in the Tower, trying not to loom.

Natasha blinks at him, then leans forward to scratch behind the cat's ears. She tips her chin up, regarding Steve coolly. "I found him in the cemetery."

She's not lying, but that doesn't mean she's telling the truth.

"Don't hand me a line," Steve says, warning. "What aren't you saying?"

Her eyes widen, but she gathers herself quickly. "What aren't _you?_ "

Steve hesitates. "I had a familiar, once." He wants to touch the cat so badly his fingers hurt with it. He doesn't, too afraid he'll feel nothing. He's felt nothing where half his soul used to be for a very long time. "He, uh. Might've looked like that."

Natasha arches an eyebrow. "'Might'?"

Steve winces. "I made him…different. I was a kid. It was my first and last spell."

"Huh." Natasha looks faintly surprised. "I wondered why you felt like a witch, when you weren't one." She's still petting the cat. "Thank you, for telling me."

Steve shrugs. "It wasn't a secret. It just never came up before."

The cat flops over on his side, blinking slowly at Steve. The cat's eyes are storm-blue.

Natasha smiles, petting his belly. "What I didn't tell you is that I knew this cat before. When I was with the Red Room." Steve doesn't miss how she says 'knew'. Not 'owned'. "Anya—one of the other girls—had been killed for some infraction. I can't remember what. I was in the cell they locked us in at night, crying into my pillow so they wouldn't hear. And then, a fluffy black cat came though the bars and jumped on the bed, then lay down next to me, purring." She smiles softly at the cat. "He visited me every night for days, like a fairy tale. And he'd purr and let me cuddle him, and for a little while life was bearable." Her smile fades. "And then I overheard some of the guards, talking about finding the Winter Soldier and 'fortifying the aegis'." She practically spits the words. "And that night the cat didn't come. And I never saw him again."

"I'm sorry," Steve says.

Natasha tilts her head in a kind of shrug, fingers still moving in the cat's fur. "I didn't see the correlation, back then." She looks at Steve. "It was only when he came back, right after the Winter Soldier vanished, that I even thought about it."

Steve nods at the apology in her eyes. "It should've killed me, when Bucky fell," he says softly. He sits on the floor, near enough to the cat to touch; he doesn't. "It'd been bad enough when he was in Europe, worse when he was tortured. But when he fell…" Steve's breath shudders. "I felt him die."

Natasha puts her hand over his. "Cats have nine lives, Steven."

He nods, swallows. "Yeah." He smears away the tears in his eyes. "But they're called 'familiars' for a reason, Nat."

The cat lifts his head again, looking at Steve. Same fur, same eyes. But Bucky was right there--on the bridge, again on the helicarrier. And they grappled, their bodies touched. And Steve felt nothing.

Maybe the cat really was Bucky, once. It doesn't matter. Cats have nine lives, but humans don't. He's not Steve's familiar anymore. Half of Steve's soul is gone.

* * *

Except.

That night, the cat pads into his room.

Steve hears it and he doesn't move, barely breathes. _It's just a cat,_ he thinks, when it jumps onto the bed. _Just a cat,_ when it curls up against Steve's spine.

 _Just a cat._ But Steve falls asleep to the rumbling purr anyway.

And in the morning, Bucky's sleep-warm and tousled and still plastered along Steve's spine. His arm's over Steve's chest, holding tight, like even in his sleep he refuses to let him go.

And for the first time since 1945, Steve's got the other half of his soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Look! Now I'm on [Tumblr!](http://taste-is-sweet.tumblr.com/) Or find me [here](https://about.me/aundreasinger), because I'm somewhat interesting! ♥

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Kotik (the Preview)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4510860) by [Taste_is_Sweet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_is_Sweet/pseuds/Taste_is_Sweet)
  * [Kotik](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049607) by [Taste_is_Sweet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_is_Sweet/pseuds/Taste_is_Sweet)




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